How Will We Survive
by companionathenaclawthree
Summary: Amelia Pond and Rory Williams have been sent back in time by the weeping angels. Amelia still believes she can write letters to the doctor, and makes a pile of them on the place where she knows her grave will be for him to find. Post-Angels Take Manhattan
1. 18 August 1938

Dear Doctor,

It's me, Amelia Pond, and the date of current is 18th of August, 1938. Rory and I have a house here thanks to River, and we're comfortable in here. Rory is training to be a doctor. He and I are both worried – we know World War II is coming and that there's nothing we can do about it. We're scared.

As for me? I'm writing a novel under the name of A. Pond. Get it? As in, a pond somewhere out there. Like Melody Pond.

It's lonely here. No technology, nothing. We're thinking of buying a dog – a nice little addition to the family. What do you think, Doctor?

Rory and I, we miss you so much.

Love always,

Amy.


	2. 24 August 1938

24th August 1938

Dear Doctor,

I'm going to start dating these. Okay, so, we got a dog. Over much debate we decided to call him Who, as in, who is the doctor? He's a little black kelpie and he's very excitable. Who loves going for long walks around the parks here. Rory took me to see The Adventures of Robin Hood, and it's a wonderful movie.

Rory and I miss you. It's just not the same here. But we know the war is coming and I feel so scared and so angry when I see people walking around, pushing crying children in prams and knowing that they might die. To see young teenage couples joking around and knowing that, perhaps in a few years' time, the boy may be sent off to war. I don't know how you do it Doctor.

Love,

Amy and Rory.


	3. 1 September, 1938

1 September 1938

Dear Doctor,

If I'm (well, Rory) correct, today is the day that Mussolini takes away the Italian Jews' civil rights. I feel sorry for them. But I know it will get worse. Sometimes I just lie in Rory's arms and hope, pray that this is a dream, and when I wake up I'll be in hospital delivering baby Melody, not at Demon's Run, not being chased by the angels. You and Rory will be holding my hands and Melody will be crying and everything will be okay.

I know that won't happen.

I made a friend today, Florence, and she has five children, aged 10, 8, 6 and 3 year old twin boys. That's scary. Her two eldest sons, John, aged 10 and Patrick, aged 8 will both be eligible to be conscripted for the Korean War. She has a daughter, Mary, aged 6, who is a darling little angel. I've included a small photo of the family in this letter.

Her husband is dead. I hate to say this, but I'm glad. She won't have to go through the pain of losing him in war.

Rory sends his love, and so do I, Doctor,  
Amy.


	4. 5 September 1938

5th September 1938,

Dear Doctor,

Who loves nothing more than running around the table, barking and whining at things that aren't there. My book is going well, though it's hard on a typewriter. It's about Rory and I starting when we were little kids right up to now. It doesn't name us by name, though, that would be suspicious. It tells them of how he waited outside of a box for 2000 years for me. Rory helps me lots with it, telling me his experiences and his point of view. It gives me a real sense of sadness, gratefulness and guilt. I can't believe that he'd really do that for me. Oh, Doctor, I could live a thousand lifetimes and still not deserve him, couldn't I?

It's strange to think that my grandmother Dana would probably be a young child right now, somewhere in Ireland, soon to meet her Scottish prince (my grandfather), whiling away her days with brothers, Shane and Patrick, and her sisters, Fainne and Ciara and Ashlyn. It doesn't seem quite real. And my grandfather, as a young Scottish lad with curls of red riding horses that galloped across the countryside.


	5. 7 September 1938

7 September 1938

Dear Doctor,

We went for a bit of a walk today, Rory, Who and I. We pondered some things, and I told Rory I had an idea for a book. He asked me what it was, and I told him my idea - a girl living in the rolling hills of Scotland in Summer, being stuck with her tedious cousins and siblings to keep her company. Rory said it was a good idea - Who seemed to like it, or maybe he just saw a squirrel, but he was barking alright. Rory admitted that he worried about you, and I have to say the same. Don't be alone, Doctor - whisk somebody else off on a magical adventure.

It was a bit windy today, but overall quite nice for Autumn. I still can't believe that we are actually stuck here - I find myself listening for the TARDIS all the time. I might not like to admit it, but I really do miss you, Doctor.

All our love,

Amy, Rory and Who.


End file.
